|| What Am I, My Krishna? ||

Draped in white, with eyes of night,

Lips like dawn in tender light.

A heart once scarred, yet fierce with flame,

To see you again—oh, joy, oh pain.

Was it a cliff, a fall, a flight?

A shadowed wrong, or sacred right?

Balance me, if love be true,

For every breath still leads to you.

Your words rang pure, my soul confessed,

Two wounded hearts still beat their best.

No future known, no promise clear,

Yet soul to soul, you draw me near.

Our hug spoke prayers we could not say,

Our silence carved a brighter way.

Ever seen a heart turn free—

Bairagi lost in ecstasy?

This love’s no sin, it feels divine,

Like Krishna’s flute—it once was mine.

If wrong be right when I love you,

Then Radha’s fire still burns me through.

O Krishna, hear this mortal’s plea,

Untangle fate, set spirit free.

If he is mine, then let it show,

If not, then bid his shadow go.

But keep him blessed in every part,

For he still dwells within my heart.

Scarred, yet whole, my soul is his,

And always, Krishna, always Yours is this.

I surrender, a riddle untold—

A flame of love, both fierce and cold.

What am I—devotion, fire, or plea?

Perhaps, my Krishna… I’m all three.

#Moonshines